


Devilish

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27870590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Mick knew that he was doomed from the start.From the very beginning, there had been a slow, sinking feeling in his stomach that felt like an abyss had opened up, and was now threatening to swallow him whole. The last time Mick had felt that way, it was when he was at the doctor's and being told that it was Scoliosis, and that, no, there was no cure, but this time, there was no incoming feeling of dread.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	Devilish

Mick knew that he was doomed from the start. 

From the very beginning, there had been a slow, sinking feeling in his stomach that felt like an abyss had opened up, and was now threatening to swallow him whole. The last time Mick had felt that way, it was when he was at the doctor's and being told that it was Spondylitis, and that, no, there was no cure, but this time, there was no incoming feeling of dread. 

Rather, there was just anxiety, a sort of slow fear that made its way throughout his whole body, running through his veins like blood, making his heart beat so fast that it felt like the beat of a hummingbird's wings. Mick hadn't known what was causing such a thing - not at first, anyways - but assumed that it was just the natural effects of him being in a new band. 

But, nope, he'd never been so lucky. 

Mick liked women, even if he didn't eagerly approach them like the other three had a tendency to do, and he'd dated countless of them throughout his life, but there was something about the pretty boys that just made him want to push them against the wall and forget about life for awhile. 

Now, in this new band, Mick had three men who looked like they could get away dressing in short skirts on the sunset strip surrounding him and it was quite the interesting situation to be in. It was the easy cause of several jokes that Mick could make at their expense's, but it also made him want to rip their clothes off in a way that was distinctly unfriendly. 

However, there was only one of the three that made Mick - well, made him smile.

And, God, it was so cheesy that Mick want to bury himself, but it was the cold truth that needed a few years to get used to. 

"Okay, so - are you paying - never mind, just hold on for a minute, just pay attention, do you see that girl?" Tommy said, words slurred and slow, clumsily slapping at Mick until the guitarist obediently turned around on the stool to see what - or, rather, who - had caught Tommy's eyes. 

Mick sighed at being interrupted in his thoughts, but didn't care to make a fuss about it, simply gazing out into the crowd over the rim of his glass to see whoever had managed to catch Tommy's attention, which wasn't all that impressive of a task, because Tommy, when he was drunk, would think that a troll in hot pink lipstick was the prettiest thing since Madonna. 

"What?" Mick muttered, only seeing the usual - scantily clad women with long hair that was bunched up around their heads in various shades of blonde and black and brown and red, with enough eyeliner around their eyes to make them look like a racoon that'd been crying hysterically for a few hours. 

Tommy groaned, rolling his eyes theatrically. " _Her!"_ He pointed out into the crowd.

It took a moment, but Mick managed to connect the invisible line and saw that there was a pretty blonde in slightly less makeup standing by a window with a drink in her hand and a contemplative gaze in her eyes. "Her?" He repeated. 

"Yes!" Tommy nodded eagerly. "She looks like a goddamn model." 

Mick frowned, downed the rest of his drink, and set it on the table behind him to be refilled. "I think she is a model." He replied, squinting at the woman, who was alone and quiet, her bottom lip jutting in a pout. 

"All the better." Tommy was grinning. "She's gorgeous." He looked like a puppy who had just caught sight of a bone, too caught up in the good to notice whatever bad might've been lurking nearby. 

"Eh." Mick really wasn't interested, and he merely nodded in thanks as the bartender that'd been hired by whoever was throwing this party handed him a full glass. "The last one was better " 

Tommy scoffed, waving the response away. "Yeah, yeah, you're just jealous because you don't have anybody." He said. 

The words hurt more than they should've, even though Mick had heard such things a million times before. He didn't have anybody, not really, and the reality was cold and hard. The groupies liked to toss themselves at Mick, but he didn't care for the lot of them - they were just a bunch of whores with too much makeup and too little brains. During the rare occasions that Mick did associate with the women that he met, it was just a quickie, nothing particularly great. 

Mick wasn't dumb - he knew why. 

"I'm not jealous of anybody." Mick grumbled, taking a sip of his drink and feeling it burn on the way down, providing an unpleasant distraction. "I won't have a disease by the time I'm in my forties, anyways." 

"Rude." Tommy shook his head, but his eyes were still fixed squarely on that woman. "You need to find yourself somebody, and soon, because nobody's gonna wait forever on your sorry ass." 

For some reason, Mick felt a cold shiver creep up his spine like tentative fingers.

Indeed, nobody would wait forever for Mick to get his head on straight and figure out what he was going to do. Nobody would wait for Mick to get over whatever this weird mid-life crisis thing entailed, because nobody had time time to pause their lives for him. 

"Just because I'm not tossing myself at every available girl doesn't mean I don't have somebody." Mick said. 

Tommy snorted out a laugh. "Oh, please. The last time - Vince! My man." 

As suddenly as he'd first disappeared into the crowd with practiced ease, Vince had reappeared, and he looked like he was dearly regretting that decision, but there was nowhere to run from the drummer, who was way too cheerful.

"What do you want?" Vince said, tossing his hair back so that it wasn't hanging in his eyes anymore. 

"Well, we - Mick and I - were just talking." Tommy motioned to the guitarist, as if the name would prove unfamiliar to Vince. "And our conversation turned to women, and Mick was all like 'I'm not lonely', but the thing is, I haven't seen him with anybody in five months." 

Mick wasn't sure whether or not to hit Tommy or just dive to the ground and brace for impact, because Vince was doing that weird, mischievous little smile that usually meant trouble. "Are you keeping track, kid?" He said irritably. 

"I'm sorry to say." Vince said. "But, yeah, you are lonely as fuck, Mick. And I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, but its kinda getting old for everyone to have a girl except for you." 

"And Nikki." Tommy interjected. "Speaking of which, where is he?" The drummer looked around the room, as if hoping to find his friend, but there proved to be nobody of interest. 

Vince shrugged. "Last I checked, he was doing a line." 

"I do have somebody." Mick said without thinking, immediately wishing that he could smack his hand over his mouth and take the words back. He hadn't meant to say such a thing, but then Tommy had brought Nikki into the conversation, and it was a terrible thing for Mick to admit that his mind had drifted at the mention of the bassist. 

Tommy noticeably perked up. "Who?" He asked. 

"Ah, don't fall for it, Lee. He's just gonna pull your leg or somethin'." Vince said.

If Mick had harbored any intention of going back on those words, then after Vince had decided to open his mouth, Mick was going all in. "I do." He took a sip of his drink for courage, praying that this lie wouldn't backfire. "She's just very busy with her work." 

Vince raised his eyebrows. "And what's her name, Casanova?" He asked. 

"Sara." Mick said, saying the first name that came to mind. "She's a stagehand." 

Tommy, by comparison, was now frowning. "I didn't know we had a stagehand named Sara." He said. 

"I wouldn't expect you to." Mick snapped, downing the rest of his drink and standing up, not wanting to embarass himself any longer, hating that he cared about what was happening and what Tommy and Vince thought about his personal life. ' _It's none of their goddamn business.'_ He thought, wondering what had happened to that guy who didn't give a fuck about what others thought. 

But things were changing, much faster than Mick was comfortable with, and he couldn't keep up with the times as well as he wanted to. 

The house was full of unfamiliar faces, people with not a single care in the goddamn world. They were all drunk and in various stages of being high, with glazed eyes and too loud, they were all too loud. 

Mick didn't feel comfortable, not because of being in any danger, but because he didn't belong there. He should be doing whatever people in their thirties with a bad back and bad hips do, and not playing guitar in a band full of people who didn't understand the troubles that Mick had to deal with - the pain, the uncertainty, the fear. 

Would he wake up in the morning, unable to move, stuck in bed for the rest of his godforsaken life until his heart gave out? Would he even be able to spent five, ten, fifteen more years in the band? It was all up in the air, questions with no answers in sight. 

Eventually, Mick sat down on a couch in the corner, taking a deep breathe, wondering why he was so bothered. ' _You're changing. Just admit it. All of a sudden, you care about what people think of you. All of a sudden, you got all of these weird feelings for a fucked-up druggie with mommy issues.'_

Damn it - damn it all. 

The alcohol made Mick's eyes blur and his head begin to swim, and he shut his eyes tightly, just for a moment, but then, the next thing he knew, somebody was shaking his knee, and when Mick opened his eyes, it became startlingly care that more time had passed than he'd been aware of. 

At some point, the sound of talking had died down into a faint chatter, and nobody else was in the room, leaving Mick on the couch, with a crick in his neck to add to his woes. 

"Jeez. You don't usually get so hammered." Nikki said, sounding begrudgingly impressed. "I almost forgot about you." 

Mick wondered if he could get away with just falling back asleep. "Yeah, well." He shrugged, slowly pushing himself up before pausing. "Where's dumb and dumber?" He asked. 

"Tommy's upstairs with some blonde, and Vince is - well, not that blonde." Nikki smiled weakly, but it fell away. "Are you alright, man?" 

"Yeah." Mick sighed, suddenly aware of how far he'd fallen, remembering how, at the last party they'd attended, he had been the one dragging Nikki back home and marveling at how things had changed. Mick never usually indulged so much, nor did he usually fall asleep during the middle of a party, but he was allowed to be a loose loose, wasn't he? 

Suddenly, Mick was aware of how close Nikki was, how he could smell the bassist's cologne and see a single mole positioned near the edge of Nikki's collarbone because the buttons on Nikki's shirt hadn't been done properly, and now it was hanging off like a sheet on a skeletal frame. It was the drugs, Mick knew, but that didn't make it any better - in fact, it made things a lot worse. 

"What happened with you?" Mick asked. "Shouldn't you be off, getting high with that guy from Guns?" 

Nikki narrowed his eyes. "That guy from Guns is on tour, remember? Jeez, you really got fucked, didn't you?" He snickered ruefully, lips peeling back from his teeth in a half-grin. 

"Unfortunately." Mick sighed, looking up at Nikki's pale face, seeing those green eyes and knowing that he was so close to falling that it wasn't even funny anymore and Mick didn't know which one of them he was talking about, but what he did know was that Nikki looked really, _really_ good, like, stupidly good, and it was fucking unfair. 

In that moment, with Nikki looking down at him with combined confusion and weariness, it became very, very clear what needed to be done.

Dignity be damned straight down to Hell. 

Mick threw a quick prayer up to God, and with that final coherent thought, he grabbed Nikki by the waist and wrenched him down. 

"Jesus!" Nikki yelped, somehow managing to catch himself, pressing his fists against the couch on either sides of Mick to prevent a total collapse. 

It wasn't exactly the smartest thing that Mick had ever done, but it was one of the best, because now he had Nikki right there, staring down at him with thinly veiled panic. "Are you okay?" Mick asked. 

"Am I - I'm on top of you, asshole!" Nikki tried to push himself back up, but Mick held on strong. 

"Calm down." Mick said. 

But Nikki had never listened, and wasn't about to start now. "Is your back okay? I didn't fall that hard, but - _why the fuck did you do that?"_ Nikki was hissing through his teeth, his dark hair falling and obscuring his face. 

"Because I wanted you on top of me." Mick replied with a remarkably straight face, figuring that honesty was the best policy when you had once of your previously platonic friends laying on top of you. "And I didn't know if you'd come if I asked, so I figured that this was the best way of going about it." 

"By dragging me down on top of you? Great idea, Mick. Real - wait, what?" Nikki suddenly went from angry to a placid, confused silence, punctuated by the sound of their breathing, stuttered and harsh. 

Mick nodded, reaching up and brushing Nikki's hair away so that they could look properly at each other. "Yes." He said quietly. "I know that I'm going to sound crazy, but I think you're a great guy, and that you make my heart beat really fucking fast when you're up on stage." Mick rubbed his thumb over Nikki's cheek, gliding over his sharp, jutting cheekbone. 

"You're drunk out of your fucking mind." Nikki whispered, awed. 

"Yes." Mick admitted. "But I want this. I've been wanting this for a really, really long time." It felt good, to finally be able to admit the truth. 

In more ways than one, actually, because Mick could feel Nikki, could feel what the younger man seemed to desperate to hide, shifting his hips away awkwardly so that Mick wouldn't catch on. But, oh, how he did, and Mick found himself smiling, knowing that, yes, he was drunk, but that was the only possible way to get this whole situation back on track. 

Nikki sighed. "So, it takes this - " He motioned around the room. "-for you to gather up your courage? Fuck, man, I was expecting somethin' else when I went to wake you up." He laughed softly, and then he leaned down, taking advantage of his dominant position to grab Mick by the back of the head and pull him in Gor a hot, ravenous kiss.

Although Mick wouldn't have admitted it if the threat of somebody burning all of his guitars had been underway, he had wondered what it would be like to finally kiss Nikki, and as he did, Mick had to admit that it was, somehow, so much better than expected. Nikki was searing and passionate and furious, and Mick was equal parts eager, like a flame to a match. 

"After all these time I've spent waiting, I think we can wait a little longer to get home, though. I don't want whatever this is to be interrupted by some Alice Cooper knockoff." Nikki said after they both pulled away for air. 

"Alice Cooper knockoff?" Mick repeated. 

"Yeah." Nikki nodded. "There was some guy around here who was talkin' like him, anyways. C'mon, now, I bummed a ride off of Tommy's buddy." 

Mick allowed himself to be pulled up. "And then?" He needled. 

"And then, we can continue to be disappointments in the eyes of society." Nikki waved his hand around. "No big deal." 

As Mick walked out into the bitter air of the night, and walked into the awaiting car while Nikki lit his cigarette, as Tommy made out in the backseat with the blonde, as Vince rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands, there wasn't much to reflect on. 

However, Mick was grateful that, of all the guys he could've fell for, Nikki was the one, especially when Nikki half-turned and smirked at him like the devilish fiend that he was. 


End file.
